


True Love Is Haunting

by TotidemVerbis



Series: HBO War One Shots And Drabbles [17]
Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Brad is in touch with his emotions, Fluff, M/M, he just doesn't voice them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 08:27:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13947702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotidemVerbis/pseuds/TotidemVerbis
Summary: It's movie night at Brad and Ray's house, which means it's time for Brad to have a few realizations.





	True Love Is Haunting

**Author's Note:**

> I struggle writing from Brad's perspective, but I like the way this turned out. I hope you like it too!

Brad is stretched out on Ray’s ratty old couch that he suspects Ray picked up from the side of the road, but the ugly yellow thing is surprisingly comfy. Probably because it’s squashy and allows Brad’s body to really sink down into the cushions. Right now, Brad is sitting in the corner of the couch. He’s got one arm propped up on the arm of the couch next to him, his other is stretched out along the back of the couch, and his legs are spread as wide as the sweatpants will allow. He’s almost the perfect picture of comfort. _Almost_ , because Ray is clearly beating him in the comfort department. 

Ray is stripped down to a pair of Batman boxers _(“It’s Lego Batman, homes, get it right!”)_ and one of Brad’s old worn out white tee shirts, and he’s lying down across the length of the couch. His cheek is nuzzling against Brad’s thigh, which he’s using as a pillow as they watch a movie, and his feet are kicked up onto the other arm of the couch. His arms are at his sides, hands resting against his stomach so he can tap his fingers against his stomach at irregular intervals, and Brad can’t actually stop himself from smiling every time he looks down to see Ray mouthing the lines of the movie they’ve got on. 

It’s been three months, two weeks, and four days since Ray showed up at Brad’s house and forced himself inside. (Literally. Brad had recently left the Marines, a decision he’d struggled with for years, and he hadn’t been receptive to anyone’s company. So Ray had taken matters into his own hands, scaled Brad’s apartment building, and broke in through his fifth-story window.) 

It’s been three months, two weeks, and three days since Brad kissed Ray for the first time. (In the kitchen. Up against Brad’s counter. He’d listened to Ray rant about the abysmal state of his taste in coffee before pushing Ray up against the counter and finally finding a way to get Ray Person to just stop talking.)

It’s been three months, one week, and five days since Ray casually told Brad he was totally in love with him in all of the gay ways and then asked Brad to move in with him. (Brad had choked on his Chinese takeout, which made Ray slap his back while laughing like an absolute lunatic, and Brad had agreed that sharing Ray’s space wasn’t the worst idea he’d ever heard. His face had still been red and eyes watery from nearly choking to death, but Ray had smiled so wide that the corners of his eyes had crinkled. So. It’d worked out.)

Brad’s not sure if they became _Brad and Ray_ after Brad moved in, after he whispered that he loved Ray too only minutes after Ray’s own declaration, after their first kiss, or right after Ray broke into his apartment and told him to stop being a mopey motherfucker. It’s not like it really matters, because they’re definitely _Brad and Ray_ now. Brad lives with Ray, he’s relearning how to be someone other than a Marine, and sometimes he looks at Ray and thinks that he’s lucky. (Not that he’ll tell Ray that. The last time Brad said something sappy, Ray made kissy faces at him for half an hour and then tried to play footsie with him in a McDonalds.) 

“I’d die for you.” The quiet words catch Brad off-guard, and he blinks slowly as he looks away from the TV and down at his lap. Ray’s lying on his back, and he’s turned his head so that big brown eyes are staring straight up at Brad. “Of course, I’d haunt you in the afterlife but really, it’s the thought that counts.”

“What the fuck,” Brad sighs and grabs the controller. He pauses Netflix, right before _I’ll Make A Man Out Of You_ starts, and then rubs at his eyes before he looks down into Ray’s eyes again. 

“I just want you to know that if I die, I’m not walking into the light or the hellfire. I’m hauntin’ your ass, so none of that grieving and then moving on to a younger version of moi. You got that?” Brad moves the arm stretched along the back of the couch to reach down to trace over the backs of Ray’s hands, feels the softer parts of his skin and the bumps of his knuckles, and his other hand moves to card through Ray’s thick hair. He likes that it’s longer, that he can run his fingers through the longer thick strands and watch as Ray’s back arches against the feeling. 

“Where’s this coming from, Ray?” His eyes dart away and there’s a light dusting of pink on the tops of his cheeks, and Brad sighs again. “You watched _Ghost_ at Walt’s the other night. I told Nate it was a bad idea to leave you two alone.”

“Where it’s coming from aside, Bradley, I stand by my statement. You better wait for me,” Ray says and narrows his eyes. 

There’s words on the tip of Brad’s tongue and tickling the back of his throat, but he holds them all back.

_No one can ever compare to you, so how could I move on?_

_I’ll never want someone the way I want you._

_This is it for me. You are it for me._

_There’s nothing and no one after you._

Brad doesn’t say any of that though. He keeps those words secret, for now at least, and runs his fingers through Ray’s hair again. It gets Ray’s eyes to flutter shut, and Brad leans down to brush a kiss against Ray’s forehead. Brad’s already sitting back up and starting the movie up again by the time Ray opens his eyes, but their hands are laced together over Ray’s stomach and Brad’s still idly touching Ray’s hair. He can feel Ray’s eyes on him, almost as strong as a physical touch, and Brad taps his fingers against Ray’s hand along to the beat of the music playing from the TV. 

“Don’t be an idiot, Ray.” He catches a glimpse of Ray’s wide smile before he turns to look at the TV again, sees a flash of teeth and crinkles next to his eyes, and Brad’s eyes close as Ray focuses his attention on the TV again. 

_Ray Person is the last person I’m ever going to be in love with._

The words feel right, warmth spreads from his cheeks and all the way down to his chest, and Brad feels like he just made some kind of vow. He won’t tell Ray any of this, it’s still too soon and things are still too new, but Brad knows himself well enough to know the truth. Ray’s it for him, and he’s strangely okay with that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
